Chapter 10
IT WAS EARLY AFTERNOON when Gael returned, and by then, Beth’s nerves were stretched thin as old wire. She’d tried to get in touch with someone, anyone, but not one of the magiks she’d called—and she’d called many—had picked up their damn phone.
So when Gael stepped into the pub right after the lunch rush, she ran straight to him, launching herself into his arms with zero decorum and even less care for the eyes on them.
He caught her instantly, holding her like she was the only steady thing in a storm.
His face was drawn, pale beneath his usual golden tone, eyes shadowed with something dark.
But when he looked at her, his lips curved faintly and brushed against hers with a desperate gentleness and he exhaled a deep sigh.
“Did you get him?” she asked, breathless, running her hands over his chest, arms, shoulders, making sure he was still in one piece.
“We did.”
Before she could ask who the we had ended up being, the pub’s bell jingled, and she turned to see Aryon holding the door for a sleek, alert Belgian Malinois—Sheriff Morgan in his canine form.
Behind him padded a massive black wolf, Rex, the park ranger and werewolves’ alpha.
Elara followed, with Emma and her husband Rick close behind.
Harper, the new deputy, brought up the rear, and the group was finally closed out by Lachlan, the mayor and Sorcerer Magnus, gliding in like this was just another Wednesday.
“They were all with you?” she asked Gael, blinking at the small army assembling in the pub’s dining room.
“Yes,” he said. “The mountains are wide, and he moves fast. It made sense to have backup.”
“That’s some backup,” she muttered. “I’m guessing you’re all starving?” she asked the group as they claimed the largest table in the pub.
A round of enthusiastic affirmations echoed through the space.
“Lunch specials for everyone, then.” She kissed Gael’s cheek and headed for the kitchen. “Rex, Sheriff, you’ve got spare clothes in the back.”
Beth moved through the rest of lunch on autopilot. Orders, plates, refills, her body knew the rhythm, even if her mind kept drifting back to Gael’s face. He was back. Safe, but whatever had happened out there had taken a bite out of him.
After the rush settled, Aryon caught her as she was clearing a tray. “Shift’s over. Go home.”
She blinked. “It’s early. I’ve still got two hours left.”
“I know,” he said gently. “But Gael needs you more than we do right now.”
Beth hesitated. “What happened?”
Aryon’s gaze flicked briefly toward the kitchen, where Gael had disappeared for a quiet moment. “He found Bryn. He said he’d done nothing wrong, claimed he just asked Ann to spend time with him.”
“That’s stupid. She wouldn’t go near him.”
“I know. It was clear from his aura and what emotions he let slip that he was lying.”
Beth set down the tray, heart thudding. “So what happened?” Her voice caught slightly, and she crossed her arms. “You had to let him go?”
“No,” Aryon said. “Gael got into his head. Forced him to tell the truth.”
“And that’s good, right?”
“In a way.” Aryon hesitated. “That’s highly forbidden.”
Beth’s eyes widened. “But that’s what Bryn did. Twice. And that’s only the times we know about.”
“Yes,” Aryon said with a sad smile. “And under the circumstances, it might not have been disastrous.”
“But?”
He sighed. “Gael planted false memories and emotional trauma deep into Bryn’s subconscious. When we arrived, he was in a bad way. Half-buried under moss and root snarl, barely coherent.”
“He made him go insane?” she whispered.
“A little. Gael reversed the emotional manipulation, so that part was undone.”
Beth blinked. “Well, that was... nice? Of him?”
Aryon gave her a look. “Won’t get him out of trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Worst case? His powers could be bound.”
Beth’s stomach dropped, and it must’ve shown on her face, because Aryon reached out to touch her shoulder.
“There will be a process,” he said quickly. “Everyone involved, human and magik, will get to advocate for him. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”
Beth stared past him, numb.
She thought of all the times Gael had been kind, careful, restrained, so deliberate with his magic, with his choices. “It’s hard to think of him as violent.”
“Bryn brought danger to your doorstep,” Aryon said quietly. “There’s nothing Gael wouldn’t do to right that.”
The words hit her deep, and she swallowed.
“Get him home.” Aryon smiled. “You’ve always been like a little sister to us. Now more than ever.”
She hugged him tightly, whispering, “Thank you.”
“DO YOU WANT TO WALK home?” Beth asked him as they stood outside the pub. “I drove Ann home, so I’ve got the car, but we can walk if you prefer.”
“Driving is fine, thank you.”
He was too tired to walk. Not in the physical sense, but in that soul-deep way that came from holding back too much for too long.
The silence of her home beckoned full of relief, and he couldn’t wait to be there.
The drive home was quiet. Beth didn’t push him with questions or fill the space with noise.
She simply let him exist, and that was a gift that only made him love her more.
Once inside, she gently steered him toward the couch. He let her, sitting without protest. The cushions sank under his weight, the mundane comfort of the room wrapping around him like a balm. Her presence nearby helped settle the wild edge of his thoughts.
“Aryon told me what happened,” she said after a beat. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.” He turned to look at her, gaze steady. “I was never planning on hiding things from you.”
But a shadow passed over his face, and she saw it.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “What is it?”
He sighed, then reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “This, like everything else, will have consequences.”
“Yes, he told me.”
“No,” Gael said, voice a touch sharper now. “Not just for me. I knew what I was doing, and I’m prepared for the consequences, if they come. What I’m talking about is you.”
She blinked. “Me?”
“My people will talk,” he said. “You and I, our relationship, will be dragged into this. How it impacted my reaction. The old ones will not be pleased.”
Her confusion deepened. “It impacted your reaction?”
“I felt it, I saw it in his energy, in the pattern of his emotions. Bryn wanted to hurt you, and he knew the easiest way to do that was through someone you loved. Someone vulnerable.” He shifted closer and cupped her face gently.
“And I need you to understand this, Beth: I will tear down the entire world if someone dares to hurt you. In any capacity.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. The moment held for a beat too long, then he drew in another breath. “Which brings us to the next thing I need to address.”
“Okay,” she said, cautious now.
He hesitated. Just for a second. “What do you feel for me?”
That threw her. He could see it in her eyes, the retreat, the way her fingers tightened on her own arm. Unease rolled off her in gentle waves. “What embarrasses you?” he asked softly.
She let out a frustrated little laugh and looked away.
“There’s really no hiding from you, is there?
” She rolled her eyes. “It’s embarrassing because I shouldn’t feel the way I do.
It’s been too short. I know with you magiks things tend to run high and fast and dramatic, but I’m human. I don’t do crazy.”
A beat.
“And yet,” she said, “here I am, thinking I may be in love with you.”
The words just hung there.
She pressed her lips together like she might physically catch the rest of her heart trying to leap out of her mouth. He heard its wild drumming and had to clamp down on how it made him feel.
“And that doesn’t even cover it,” she admitted. “When you were gone... it wasn’t just worry. It was like something was missing. From me.”
He nodded slowly. “It’s the same for me.”
Gael exhaled again, unsure for the first time in his life how to carry this conversation forward. “Do you know about fated mates?”
Her eyes widened slightly. Of course she did. This was Mystic Hollow. Everyone with a pulse and basic magical literacy knew what that meant.
“But I’m human,” she stuttered.
“That never stopped fate.”
She stared at him, her expression a disbelief so pure it would be hilarious if it weren’t aimed directly at him. “So... what, you’re saying I’m your... soulmate?”
The way she said it made his chest tighten. He had to tell her everything. No matter how it would hurt, he would never bind her with him based on a half-truth. He tried to force air into his lungs, found it utterly unpleasant. “You are. And I’m yours. But you should know, the bond can be rejected.”
She looked at him like he’d sprouted wings. “Why would I do that?”
He gave her a knowing look, the smallest glimmer of teasing beneath the seriousness. “Mostly because you don’t like being told what to do.”
“I don’t like my father setting me up with an old violent asshole, Gael.
This is different,” she said, frowning hard, like she was mentally sorting through an emotional flowchart and not getting the results.
Then her eyes narrowed like something suspicious had just occurred to her.
“Would we be in love if it wasn’t for the bond? ”
Her face immediately turned crimson.
“I mean, assuming you’re in love with me,” she added, panic now fully visible in the form of wildly flapping hand gestures. “Which maybe you’re not, which would be totally fine. Except actually not fine at all, because I’m clearly in love with you.”
Gael stilled. Then, slowly, a breath escaped him. His shoulders dropped, tension melting away like ice in sunlight. And then he laughed, quietly, almost disbelieving, like joy had taken him by surprise. “I do love you, Beth.”
Her aura exploded like someone had dropped a glitter bomb in a sunbeam.
It was brilliant, blinding, and very obvious.
For a second, she was a living solar flare.
And then, miraculously, she yanked it all back down.
Her energy zipped tight like a corset and tucked itself neatly out of sight, which was, frankly, terrifying.
Gael stared at her. “That was impressively controlled.”
“I panic productively,” she muttered.
But then, the light dimmed from her eyes just slightly as she asked, “Would we love each other if not for the bond?”
“Beth, l?oraen, the bond is a compass, not a chain. It led me to you, but it doesn’t build the foundation.
That’s all us.” He reached up and tucked her hair gently behind her ear, his knuckles grazing her cheek in the way he knew it made her shiver.
“Without the bond, we’d still be intrigued, still argue.
Flirt. Feel that buzz under our skin when the other walks into the room.
” He brushed his fingers along her arm, smiling when he saw the goosebumps rise beneath his touch.
“The bond just shortens the path. It yanks away fear and pride and says, Here. This one. Don’t mess it up. ”
He leaned in then, close enough that his breath kissed her lips.
His hand settled at her waist with reverence, but her whole body answered.
“The bond doesn’t create the love. It reveals the potential.
” He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, then pressed his forehead gently to hers. “My Beth.”
Tears streaked down her cheek. “Happy tears,” he murmured, brushing one away with the pad of his thumb, because he could see how deeply she felt, and how hard she was trying to stay composed. “The best kind.”
And then they came together, soft, slow, and full of everything unspoken. The bond didn’t spark the fire, but fanned it as they sank into each other, letting love speak a language their mouths couldn’t quite find.
Later, when the world had quieted again and only the sound of their breathing filled the room, Gael ran a light trail along her shoulder and down her arm. Her skin still buzzed beneath his fingertips. “We never finished talking,” he murmured.
Beth made a small, contented noise, eyes half-lidded.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I love you. You’re my mate. But I can’t stop my people from—” He paused, jaw clenching as anger prickled up again.
How could he say it gently? Every version of the truth felt like an insult badly wrapped in tissue paper. The very idea of someone treating her as less than the extraordinary woman she was made his magic stir like a storm beneath the surface.
“From being nasty little bitches?” she offered in a still dreamy voice.
He stilled. Beth wasn’t one to curse lightly, not with that perfect, polished upbringing, but when she did, it was always knife-sharp and perfectly timed. “Well. Yes,” he said, fighting a smile.
“Gael, I was talked down to and treated like a dumb, well-dressed breeding machine for more than half my life.” She stretched, utterly unbothered. “I honestly don’t care if it’s elves, humans, or polka-dotted aliens. They can come at me at their own peril.”
He stared at her for a moment, equal parts impressed and smitten. “You know, if I didn’t already love you, I would have fallen for you just now.”
She grinned and tugged a strand of his hair, curling into his side like they’d always belonged that way.
And in the hush that followed, with her warm against him and the weight of fate somehow feeling lighter, Gael thought, Let them try.
Let the world come.
He had found the one thing worth defending.